


Unsolicited

by bow_eros



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Blackmail, Blowjobs, Cum coming out of Nose, Graphic Descriptions of Sexual Fluids, Humiliation, Lewd Photos, M/M, Nude Photos, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bow_eros/pseuds/bow_eros
Summary: Jack got pictures in his email, once upon a time. Rhys uses them to his advantage.





	Unsolicited

This meeting was going to hell. Like, not good hell, either. Pandora had its perks, when he was roaming it back in the day with Fiona, Sasha, Vaughn. Loader Bot and Gortys. Good memories, smiles to be had, even if he woke up with some kind of rash every day from sleeping on the sand, almost getting killed, having a CEO psychopath AI hitchhiking in your head and getting you to call him ‘daddy’ to get him to do what you want (and even then, that was only a 50% chance he’d _actually_ do it).

This was… _torture._ Katagawa drones on and on about things he doesn’t know about, figures he truly believes to be impressive, and technology that was built fifteen years ago. The shit Katagawa is trying to sound like groundbreaking technology, Rhys watched bomb and then sink the market when he was still working in Propaganda in Hyperion. 

“... and with these sales, _combining_ our companies’ work forces, with Maliwan’s connections, and Atlas’s resources--” Katagawa stood so tall for a man barely reaching 5’10. Rhys watches him, eyes wanting to close so badly. He doesn’t give a shit. The answer was no - to every email, every letter, every contract - to any kind of Atlas-Maliwan merger.

“No, Katagawa.” He sounds like a dad, and some part of him wants to laugh, but all of this is just so unfunny he can’t even bring himself to smirk.

The Maliwan CEO fumbles in his presentation, looking at Rhys with a kicked-and-left-out-in-the-rain-puppy look. “Wh-what?”

“Where do you want me to start?” Rhys asks. His tone is flat and dry. “It’s not _Maliwan’s_ connections, not since you took over. It’s your father’s connections. And last I checked, Atlas didn’t have any more connections than Maliwan did. Slag tech came out when Hyperion was still around--” his eyebrows raise at that, as a reminder of _Who brought down that giant ‘H’ in the sky again? Oh yeah. Rhys motherfucking Strongfork._ “--and Atlas picked it up, found out it was _trash,_ and threw in the garbage. We don’t want to work with elemental damage, Katagawa, it decreases the damage output, and we’re not relying on the half picked-over corpse of Hyperion tech you and your vultures scrounged on off of the Helios decks so that our accuracy can fall, too.”

Rhys stands, and Katagawa seems to shrink in his boots.

“ _No,_ no, and _no again,_ Atlas and Maliwan are not going to get even _close_ to merging, not while I’m still standing as CEO, or COO, or the goddamn _janitor,_ I won’t let my hard work get tarnished by your…” he waves his hand uselessly, “ _shoddy work ethic_ and stalker-fanboy tendencies _._ ” 

Katagawa frowns. “Not a good presentation, then?” he says, trying for a stab of humor, but Rhys just rolls his eyes and sits down again.

“I could give a better presentation with my eyes shut and my pants down, Katagawa, I don’t know how you do it,” Rhys sighs.

Speaking of, he _does_ close his eyes. He props his head up on his fist, leaning back in his chair, and feels a twinge of pain down his left side. Looking up again, the familiar blue glow of Handsome Jack’s AI stands next to Katagawa, examining him unbeknownst to their guest.

“He looks like, straight out of an anime,” Jack says. The code’s changed in the past, what, ten, fifteen years now? He’s wearing his favorite sweater (and man, that was a fight Rhys refused to pick), jeans, hair still swept back. He’s _casual._ He’s more of a personal AI than the once-renowned Hyperion CEO anymore. Daddy meets Dad Jeans, basically. He schedules meetings and makes sure Rhys knows where his blood pressure medication is. Rhys really toned him down, and the real Handsome Jack would strangle him with his shoelaces if he knew that Rhys had turned him into little more than a palm pilot with a pretty face. “Like they cut off his cat-ears, or hid them in that ridiculous hairstyle. Seriously, who is this guy?”

“Katagawa,” Rhys replies to Jack mostly, but he’ll continue onwards as an address to make it… unsuspicious. “This is the fifth time you’ve tried to get me to merge Atlas with Maliwan. Every-- _every_ time,” he pinches his fingers together, closing his eyes tight to emphasize how _truly_ annoying it is to deal with this, even on paper, “I’ve said no. When are you going to take a hint and…” 

Rhys waves his hand, a flick of his wrist. “ _Fuck off”_ is intoned. He doesn’t say anything. 

“Once you say yes,” Katagawa isn’t telling a joke this time, Rhys can tell. Jack laughs, though, surprised and full of joy, like it’s really tickling him.

“O-oh! _Oh,_ oh, this is-- oh my _god,_ Rhysie, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!” Jack cackles. “This is Katagawa? Like, you know-- oh my god. Holy shit, hold on--” some more laughing, but Jack will disappear and come up next to Rhys, raising his right arm to bring up a file on the interface from his palm.

Katagawa Senior, which Rhys knew briefly, died of cardiac arrest. There are a couple different images popping up - Handsome Jack and the late Maliwan CEO, shaking hands at some fancy party, some family photos, the main picture from his obituary - all things that Rhys has seen before, but Jack is pointing specifically at the oldest child of three in a traditional family photo.

“This one? Yeah?” Jack says with a nasty grin. “That’s the little twerp standing in front of us right now? In our office?”

Katagawa’s watching him, eyebrows furrowed just a little, and his own ECHOeye is examining what’s happening on Rhys’s palm, but none of this is confidential information. Jack’s AI is encrypted to hell and back, so even trying to lift the code from the source would be… a headache, to put it mildly. 

“Rhys,” Katagawa says as politely as he can, though his body language is becoming more nervous. “Mr. Strongfork, sir, might I ask--”

Jack laughs hard, and the next image is huge in the square that makes up Rhys’s palm browser, making Rhys go a bit wide-eyed. Katagawa’s tongue is out, there’s-- that’s _definitely_ not lotion, no sir.

Katagawa can’t be legal in this photo. Surely not. His hand closes into a fist tight, making a soft, scolding noise, but Jack is wheezing, and very much not taking any of this ‘scolding’ to heart.

“Th-the little-- _hoooo,_ hoo-boy, I’m--” Jack coughs, and slaps his knee.

Katagawa is frozen in place, and he looks like he got drenched in ice water. Shaking hands, the color is drained from his face. “Where did you--” his voice is quiet, and he’ll step a little closer. “Rhys, _where--_ ”

Despite however much control he’s wrenched from Jack’s digital hands, there’s always something that he can’t control. It always changes, and sometimes it’s for his better good. Jack snaps his fingers, and Rhys’s mouth moves without his permission, “That’s _Mr. Strongfork._ ”

Katagawa straightens up significantly, and he’s pink rather than ghost-white. “... _Mr. Strongfork,_ ” Katagawa whispers his name, and as much as Rhys fucking hates the kid, he can’t help but admit it’s _kinda cute--_ “Where did you find… that photo?”

Rhys genuinely doesn’t know. _He_ didn’t find it, Jack did. If he were to parse a guess, it’d be from the depths of the ECHOnet, but Jack doesn’t leave him to his imagination for long. A dulcet, much smoother tone comes out of the speakers around the room as Jack speaks directly to Rhys. “While searching for more information on the Katagawa family, Rhys, I was able to find these images--”

“ _Images?!_ ” Katagawa squawks.

“--on Handsome Jack’s personal computer harddrive that was found in the wreckage of Helios. There are many CC’d recipients. Would you like the list?”

Jack is grinning, and the voice stops. “Oh-so many images, Rhysie. You thought _that_ one was bad.”

“ _Nonono--_ ” Katagawa is scrambling up the dias this time, putting his hands on Rhys’s desk. “M-Mr. Strongfork, please-- please, those images--”

“No, I.G.O.R., I don’t want the list,” Rhys says it quietly, but he does open his palm again. The image pops up, a lewd picture on the screen, and he’ll twitch his ring finger to skip to the next one. And the next. And the next.

Katagawa is squirming on the other side of the desk, and Rhys just leans back, morbidly curious. His face is pinched in slight disgust, and when he looks at the young CEO, Katagawa can barely look him in the eye. For good reason, too. Rhys has just seen a lot more of Katagawa than he thought he’d ever see, or _wanted_ to, if he were to be completely honest.

It takes another few moments, but Rhys will… hum contemplatively. 

“Mr. Strongfork,” Katagawa whispers. “Please.”

“What are these from?” Rhys asks. He’s not going to touch a plea bargain right now, not when there’s so much juicy blackmail now swirling around in his hand. And is it juicy. The worst kind of juice.

Katagawa pauses, shifts, but answers. He’s so embarrassed, and Rhys can feel himself becoming more intrigued. He _was_ always a bit of a gossiper back when Hyperion was still around. Old habits die hard.

“It was… a party. I was 19,” thank god, he _is_ legal in these photos, “I wasn’t thinking. I went to one of the Edens, I-I don’t even remember which one it was anymore. Someone took photos and sold them to someone who-- basically sent them to everyone.”

“Handsome Jack included?” Rhys guesses.

“Handsome Jack included. It was a PR nightmare! My--” Rhys can see Katagawa shiver, his shoulders at his ears, “I paid a lot of money to make sure all of this went away before my father could find out.”

Makes enough sense. Timeline matches up, mostly, when he pulls up the image files and sees the dates, the file locations, all that. Jack gives him a thumbs up and a wink, a silent, _You’re doin’ good, kiddo._

He had Katagawa’s whole career in his hand. He remembers castrating cattle back on Promethea as a ‘team building exercise’ at Hyperion, and Jack just found him a very, very sharp knife.

“So,” Rhys murmurs. 

It’s an underhanded move, but what part of corporate warfare isn’t? 

“What are you willing to do to make sure these don’t get out?”

  


A lot, apparently.

Katagawa comes around the desk suddenly, startling both Rhys and Jack a bit, but he drops to his knees and bows his head low, touching his forehead to the ground. “Please!” he cries. “Please, Mr. Strongfork, I-I’ll do anything!”

Rhys waits for a moment, regaining his composure. He sits at the edge of his chair, one of his bootheels resting on Katagawa’s sleek black shoulder, leaving a dusty print there.

“I don’t want you coming back to ask me for an Atlas-Maliwan merger,” Rhys says. He pushes Katagawa up with his heel so that he’s sitting on his heels instead of bent over, and looks him in the eyes.

Katagawa squirms, and nods his head. 

“Oh, jees, Rhysie,” Jack says with a snort. “You sure do know how to _negotiate._ ”

… Alright, _fine._ He can do better.

“I.G.O.R., how many pictures are there of Katagawa Jr. at this party?” Rhys seemingly asks the office itself, still looking down intently at the Maliwan CEO, but Jack is already ready with the answer. 

“216, Rhys, sir.” Jack smiles sharply.

“The only time I want you coming back to Atlas HQ, Katagawa, is when I call you to collect. One favor for one picture.”

The young CEO definitely wants to argue, there’s a flicker of fight in his eyes, one that sparks a bit of hope in both Jack and Rhys for something a little more entertaining, but it dies along with any words building up in Katagawa’s throat. He nods his head, and Rhys can see tears building up in his eyes. But he can also see the-- the _tent_ in his trousers.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Jack sounds floored; he found it, too. “No way.”

“Are you…?” Rhys’s mouth quirks up into an uncomfortable smile. Jack laughs, slapping his thighs and almost choking. “Are you getting off on this?”

Katagawa’s mouth opens, a struggling sound coming out of him before he looks down. “I… I, um…”

Rhys laughs, somewhat disgusted. He drops his boot down to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest as he peers down. That’s… definitely a boner. He scoffs, and he has to stop himself from wanting to gag. “You _are._ ”

“M… Mr. Strongfork,” Katagawa’s voice is quiet, but strained. He’s asking for something, and Rhys is only somewhat inclined to refuse him, whatever it is.

Jack snaps his fingers again, and Rhys’s mouth opens without his permission. Running a program in his brain that just overrides everything too quickly to stop it. 

“Tell the truth, sweetheart.”

Katagawa moans at that. There _are_ tears now, and he’ll rub his face with his sleeve to try to stymie them. “Y-yes, sir,” he wheezes. “Yes, I-I’m getting off on… on it.”

“On what?” Rhys presses. With Jack’s wind beneath his wings, he feels a bit more powerful. This is strangely confidence-building.

“On you blackmailing me, sir. I’m getting off on you humiliating me, sir.”

Jack hums appreciatively. “At least he has some goddamn respect. Maybe two or three brain cells in there that can help him follow orders.”

Rhys shivers a little, he can feel Jack lingering behind him, watching. This isn’t unlike all of the other, uh, _encounters_ he’s had. He refuses to let Jack have any alone time, give him space to make his own code, he’s always been a conniving bastard. He’s not going to let him win, never again. 

(Though, every time he snaps his fingers, or says something to get under Rhys’s skin, some part of him knows that Jack still wins, and he wins often. The scoreboard will always be skewed.)

So with Jack peering over his shoulder, Rhys brings a hand down and grips Katagawa’s hair in a fist, tugging him closer, between his knees. Katagawa whimpers, but goes with the action. His hands don’t move from the tops of his own thighs, they don’t move to touch Rhys.

“Look at me,” Rhys growls, and Katagawa’s eyes turn up, still teary, but full of something like hope.

It makes Rhys’s stomach turn, but he’s gotten a lot better at not upchucking at the first smell of a bad idea.

“ _Good boy._ ”

  


They’re both kind of feeling it out, learning new things about themselves - or perhaps rediscovering parts of themselves that they’ve covered up a long time ago. Rhys slides his hand down to the back of Katagawa’s neck, pulling him close enough so that the younger man’s mouth is pressed to the crotch of his slacks. His breath is hot and heavy even through the fabric, and it makes Rhys shiver.

Katagawa doesn’t argue, and Rhys resents him for it as much as he appreciates it. Katagawa isn’t built out for this kind of thing. Corporate warfare. Battles between wit and cunning. He’s got a soft inside, and Rhys knows the feeling well.

He knows the feeling of exposing your underbelly, showing your weak spots, having a candy-filled center only to have a friend, or a coworker, or an ally slice you from gullet to groin, to watch them watch you get eaten alive by the scavengers circling overhead. Corporate ants lining up to take a piece of your soft insides to bring back to the queen, gnashing teeth and bloody maws tearing away at your flesh, until you’re nothing but a hollow, starving vulture yourself.

Katagawa would do well to give up, and leave, but Rhys’s mouth pools with saliva at the idea of wrapping his mouth around his neck, sucking noises and dignity out of his skin like a tick to fulfill the desire to have his own sense of self back.

“I see a lot of myself in you,” Rhys murmurs.

Katagawa looks up, and his eyes turn from this frightened, unsure kitten to something more humane, unamused. “Is that a dick joke?” he asks, dry.

Rhys does laugh this time. Instead of answering, he unbuckles his belt and leans back in his chair. “Nevermind. Get to work.”

For a moment, it’s like the air becomes impossible to breathe as Katagawa’s shaky hands carefully rise to Rhys’s lap, opening up his pants, pulling down his underwear. Katagawa looks somewhat disappointed to find Rhys isn’t hard, though the expression quickly disappears as if he’s trying to cover up any kind of excitement he might have about this whole situation.

Rhys expects Jack to comment, but almost graciously, he doesn’t say a word.

Like routine, Rhys’s left hand slides down the vee of his hips and wraps around his cock, stroking upwards to rouse himself - _wake up, it’s showtime._ There’s plenty to be active over, Katagawa’s not bad looking in any sense of the word, and Jack is still hanging out, watching like a pervert. Jack’s presence alone is what starts the blood flowing, though Rhys is pointedly looking at Katagawa with a stoic expression.

“Have you had any practice since those pictures were taken?” Rhys asks.

Katagawa shakes his head, though there is a moment’s pause, his eyes shift. It’s so obvious that he’s lying that Rhys almost wants to let him off the hook. Almost.

He grabs Katagawa’s collar, cybernetic fingers wrapping around the knot of his tie and dragging him closer, until the young man’s cheek rubs against his knuckles, and the head of his cock. His skin is soft, Rhys notes, and it certainly helps things along. 

“You’re a horrible liar,” Rhys growls. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Katagawa’s eyes go a bit foggy for a moment, turning his head carefully so that his lips ghost along Rhys’s fingers, then up to the head of his cock. Katagawa’s tongue peeks out to taste his skin, and Rhys feels a rush of heat to his groin and to his face. 

He tightens his grip on Katagawa’s tie, tightening his makeshift leash, pulls him up and away from his groin to look at him, gritting out, “I said, I’m _not_ going to ask again.”

“Yes,” Katagawa wheezes. “I’ve had practice, sir.”

“A boyfriend?” Rhys lets him sink back down to the floor, and Katagawa happily rests his hands on Rhys’s thighs, high up so he can dip his fingers into his trousers, pulling down. Katagawa nods his head as a reply to the question before wrapping his lips around the head of Rhys’s cock. He’s enjoying this already - not from the humiliation, or blackmail, but because it’s _Rhys’s_ dick he gets to suck. 

Rhys puts a hand on the back of Katagawa’s head. The conversation is over anyway, so there’s no point in letting Katagawa’s _hard work_ go to waste. He pulls him closer, and his boot finds the junction of Katagawa’s hip and groin, pressing the toe of his shoe against the tent in his trousers. Katagawa moans, his eyebrows pinch.

“Mr… _Rhys,_ ” Katagawa speaks with his lips against the shaft of Rhys’s dick, eyes closed reverently before his tongue is a wet, hot line across his skin. Rhys tilts his foot forward, like stepping on the gas pedal, and Katagawa continues, fervent and needy.

His ears are trained to pick up Jack’s voice, though it’s coming directly from inside his head, so he hears distinctly when Jack ‘comments’ with a half-interested, “Hm.” He’s obviously not pleased that Katagawa is using Rhys’s first name instead of his surname. Rhys can already think of the conversation, _a lack of respect_ , something-something.

Any thought of reprimanding Katagawa for saying his name disappears once Katagawa swallows him down entirely, both his hands butterflied over Rhys’s hips, head bobbing and mouth making slick, guttural noises that send spikes of heat up and down Rhys’s spine. It’s disgusting, and needy. He’s really doing this, he’s blackmailing the Maliwan CEO, and they’re both enjoying it.

… perhaps Katagawa’s enjoying it more, by the way his hips move against Rhys’s boot, humping him like a dog. It’s pathetic, truly. He whimpers, whines, eyes closed and pink to the tips of his ears. Rhys has to lock his leg straight to get him to stop entirely, growling. He curls his fingers in Katagawa’s hair, pulling him close, down, and onto his dick. 

The first thing he feels the way the back of his mouth opens up to his throat, the head of his cock sliding in, and how Katagawa writhes in his grip and gags. It’s easy enough to hold him close, sitting up a bit more to put his weight into keeping the younger man uncomfortably sat there until the desire to strangle him passes, which luckily for Katagawa is only a few moments. He releases his hold and watches as Katagawa lurches backward with a wet gasp. His cheeks are red, a vein bulges at his temples from strain, and there’s a thick glob of saliva connecting his lower lip to the head of Rhys’s cock.

He’d blame Jack, but he knows that it’s his own personal desire that triggers his ECHOeye, a quick snapshot of the younger man on his knees that he’ll save in his memory banks. 

Katagawa definitely notices. There’s no confusion on his face, nor betrayal, there’s only a dark lust painted behind his eyes.

Before Rhys can remind him of his task, Katagawa is diving in again, moaning lewdly. He pulls at his own tie, loosening it enough to undo the first two buttons of his shirt. Rhys’s fingers grasp at the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him into each bob of his head. 

“This is--” Rhys doesn’t like that his voice is so breathy, but his heart rate has spiked, and he can’t seem to get a lungful of air to save his life, “--fucking disgusting. You’re really… getting off on this.”

Katagawa gurgles in reply, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Rhys with wet eyes, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Rhys tugs at his head, watching as one tear slips over the waterline, streaking down his skin. He takes another picture without thinking about it, and Katagawa shivers. He likes having his photograph taken.

Things start to fall into place a little more, now. He doesn’t have to say it out loud, because the truth is already hanging in the air for him to pick, leisurely. Katagawa preens under the photos Rhys is taking, and he preened under the other ones. He’s sure if he went through them more, he’d find ones where Katagawa openly faced the camera. Ones where he posed, or spread himself open--

“You’re such a _slut,_ ” Rhys hisses. He yanks on Katagawa’s hair, sliding into his throat and getting him to gag again. It’s like his whole body piles up like a train wreck, vertebrae bumping up against each other at the sudden blockage in his airway. Rhys gives earlier this time.

He couldn’t be lucky for this long; Jack scoffs. “C’mon, he obviously has the breath. Choke him with it a bit more next time, yeah?”

Katagawa nods his head, breathless - despite Jack’s statement - and looks up at Rhys. He dabs at his face again with his sleeves, swallowing sorely. “Y-yeah, yes, sir,” he cuts himself off, coming forward again to lick and kiss Rhys’s cock. “I-I’m a slut, sir, I… I’m getting off on this, sir.”

“Pathetic.” Rhys and Jack growl at the same time, distasteful and full of malice. Rhys grabs him by the ears, dragging him forward and starting to use him. Slick, uncomfortable sounds come from the younger man; his mouth is swollen with the abuse, only becoming more so with time. 

It feels good, despite not wanting it to. Despite knowing all of this is a bad idea.

Rhys fucks Katagawa’s throat, watching him squirm and feeling him fight, but it only furthers his pleasure. Rhys cums with a soft groan, and Katagawa chokes on it. 

He falls back when Rhys releases him, coughing, putting a hand over his face. Rhys can see his tears, and drool. He’s breathing hard. Rhys grabs Katagawa’s arm, pulling away any choice to hide away to see all the damage done. He wants to know what he did, so he can remember, so he can take pictures.

Katagawa’s a wreck. His breathing is strained, wheezy, and there’s cum dripping from his nose, down over his lips, onto his shirt. His eyes are squinting shut, slightly, and he shakes his head, tugging at his arm. “N-no…” he whines, but he gurgles the next second, gagging on hair. 

“Holy shit, kiddo!” Jack steps more into view, hands on his hips. “I’ve only gotten _one_ girl to cum out her nose. Congrats!”

“ _Jesus,_ ” Rhys murmurs. He watches as Katagawa wipes his face on his sleeve, letting out a soft sob. He captures a few more pictures before he’s tugging him a little closer. “You’re absolutely disgusting.”

“I’m--” Katagawa gags again, and a bubble of snot appears at the corner of his lips with the words. When he breathes in through his nose, it sounds as if he suddenly came down with a cold, sniffling loudly. He tugs at his arm again, ashamed and embarrassed, but Rhys can see his erection hasn’t flagged. “‘m sorry, M-Mr. Stro--Strongfork, s-sir--”

Rhys pulls him up with a growl, moving Katagawa so that he’s seated in his lap. He can’t think about this, otherwise he’ll _overthink_ it, and that’s the last thing he wants to do right now. 

His hand dips into Katagawa’s pants, past his belt and his underwear, and he wraps his hand around Katagawa’s cock to stroke him without any preamble. “Is that what gets you hard, Katagawa? Being _disgusting?_ Choking on my cum?”

Writhing, Katagawa nods his head, humping desperately into Rhys’s hand. He whimpers, but nothing coherent, no words. He grips onto the armrest of Rhys’s chair, the other hand clamping down on Rhys’s shoulder.

Rhys leans forward without thinking; he wraps an arm around Katagawa’s waist, pressing his mouth to his throat and starting to bite, kiss, and suck where he can reach. His skin is so soft, delicate, and untouched by the harshness of the planet surrounding them. Katagawa has grown up in a life of privilege-- he’s a _doll,_ and Rhys wants to keep him in a glass case.

“Shi--” Katagawa bucks his hips, his voice wet and loud. “ _Shit,_ shit, Rhys-- Mr. Strongf-fork, I-I’m g-gonna cum, oh g-god..!”

“ _Do it,_ filthy slut,” Rhys snaps. 

Faltering for only a moment, Katagawa’s back arches, eyes closing tight as he cums in Rhys’s fist with a broken sob.

  


Katagawa is heavy in his lap. So… ridiculously heavy. Jack comments on it, idly, somewhere in the back of his head, and Rhys realizes slowly that he fell asleep.

“Little bitch could’ve slit your throat, Rhysie, y’gotta be more careful,” Jack says, and the spark of his finger glides against his neural port, sending him into a fit of shivers. “His daddy probably taught him how to use a gun, at the very least. His company’s on the line with those, uh, _nice_ photos you got of him--”

“ _Shh,_ ” Rhys hisses, and he waves his hand next to his head like Jack’s more of a fly, rather than this… self-inflicted virus. With his other arm, he pulls Katagawa closer, a source of warmth.

Katagawa’s just looking at him, eyes awed yet wry. Rhys looks at him, frowning, blinking away fully this time, and clears his throat. 

“What?” Rhys murmurs sleepily.

“You talk in your sleep,” Katagawa says idly, though a fond smile is on his lips. 

Jack snorts. “He’s fuckin’ creepy, kiddo, you picked a real _winner_ to be your cocksleeve.”

“Yeah?” Rhys’s hand comes up and rests against Katagawa’s throat - it’s a, literally, heavy-handed threat. But the way that his thumb smooths over his pulse point is too familiar an action, too sweet. “What’d I say?”

“It sounds like you’re talking to someone, or having a conversation with yourself,” Katagawa hums. His voice is quiet, and the more that Rhys examines him, he realizes how young this guy really is. He must be under thirty, he can’t be younger than thirty. No wrinkles, barely any freckles. He grew up pampered. He could be pampered still if he just gave up this whole _Atlas and Maliwan_ merger. Atlas doesn’t merge. Atlas _eats._

“Anything, uh, specific?” Rhys narrows his eyes.

“Jack.”

The word comes out of both of their mouths, Jack and Katagawa. Again, Rhys shivers, and this time he pushes Katagawa out of his lap so he can get up. His legs are stiff and uncomfortable, he puts a hand on his shoulder to roll it, then slides a hand down his thigh to squeeze the tendon above his knee. Shit, he needs his pain meds. Where’d he put them?

“You heard wrong,” Rhys’s growl is a warning. 

“Uh,” Katagawa sounds smug, the _um, actually,_ tone, “I don’t think I misheard.”

Rhys turns, supporting most of his weight on a hand placed on the desk. “ _Yeah?_ Is that right?” he breathes. “I think I have the reigning say on what you did and didn’t hear, Katagawa.”

That definitely shuts down the tone, and the smug expression on Katagawa’s face. He sits down in Rhys’s chair, hands folded neatly on his lap. Patient, somewhat understanding; a _good boy._ He knows he misbehaved.

Rhys sighs, a stop to the conversation where it is. But he’ll clear his throat. “I.G.O.R., where did I leave my prescription?” he asks.

Jack waves towards the back left corner of the room. “Bathroom, like you usually do. Drinkin’ tap water like-- like a _plebeian--_ ”

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion,” Rhys grumbles, and walks - favoring one leg in particular with a little grimace - towards the bathroom. 

Katagawa follows, quiet, and curious. Jack was right to label him as a cat, he’s silent and sneaky, and it startles him when he sees Katagawa in the reflection of the mirror, observing him. Rhys turns to look at him, glaring.

“What?” he murmurs. He uncaps the blue bottle and fishes out two of the pills inside.

Katagawa is quiet for too long, and Rhys has to give him another look for him to feel pressured into answering quicker. Rhys doesn’t feel like being patient right now, now when his tendonitis is acting up. Running around without proper posture and physiotherapy to balance the weight on his spine has _really_ fucked up his body.

“Do you…” Katagawa starts, and reaches up to rub the back of his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt. 

Rhys can see the ring of bruises and hickeys he left there, and this time his stomach does twist in a way he remembers; he did that. Something’s not right with that. He has to look away, looking at the pills in his palm before he’s throwing them back with a quick drink from the tap.

“Did you keep Handsome Jack’s AI?”

Rhys goes wide-eyed, and coughs. The bitter taste of the pain medication comes from the back of his throat, and with the uncomfortable feeling of a bad decision still present, he’s throwing up without much preamble.

Katagawa’s at his side, patting his back and keeping him upright as he throws up in the sink. 

“I’m sorry,” Katagawa’s saying, and a hand comes over his forehead to push his hair out of his face. “Did I-- I’m sorry, I should have thought that through!”

He’s not wrong, is the thing. Obviously.

He can see the glow of Jack’s sneakers from behind Katagawa’s blurred figure, he knows Jack’s looming.

As dumbed down as he is, Jack’s still a threat. He’s still a reminder.

Rhys stands up, and he coughs a few more times. He pulls his shirt up, wiping his face. 

“It was a stupid question,” Katagawa keeps talking, filling the silence Rhys is leaving between them, obviously uncomfortable. Rhys has a loaded deck, and Katagawa keeps sticking his foot in his mouth. “I’m sorry, I should’ve--”

“You could tell him,” Jack says. He’s leaning up against the wall, his mouth curved into a small, self-satisfied smile. “He’ll probably find out eventually. That _funny little nickname_ you gave my program doesn’t _always_ come out of your mouth, you know.”

Rhys’s pupils are pinpricks, he looks into the mirror and sees Katagawa fidgeting, mouth moving. He’s talking, but the only sound he can hear is the pounding of his heart, and Jack’s voice.

“You’re going to slip up,” Jack shrugs his shoulders, “and eventually this little daddy’s boy is going to figure it out.”

“Don’t,” Rhys’s voice sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. 

“You wouldn’t be _anywhere_ without me, Rhys.”

Katagawa doesn’t scream when Rhys punches the mirror, but it’s definitely a yelp. He covers his mouth with both hands, eyes wide. Rhys pulls his arm back, shaking out the shards of glass from the joints in his tech, into the sink, and breathes heavily.

They stand there for a few moments, and Rhys shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t keep Jack’s AI,” he murmurs, low. “He’s… A part of him will always be with me. But I got rid of that son of a bitch the moment I could.”

Katagawa’s eyebrows furrow, concerned and confused, but he nods.

So gullible. So naive.

Rhys turns, leaning back onto the sink, and he gently cups Katagawa’s arm, trailing up to his face. He sighs, glancing at those bruises again with a touch of distaste. 

“Go home, Katagawa.”

Katagawa pauses for another moment, looking like he’s going to say something before his posture changes. He nods.

“Yes, Mr. Strongfork.”


End file.
